Forgive Me
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: Did he deserve his fate? Did anyone? Or was he really supposed to have died all those years ago, alone and sad. But Potter had saved him. He was forgiven. So, why didn't he feel forgiven?


_**Don't own Harry Potter, that's J.K. And some of the first scene is taken from the movie. Enjoy. **_

...

Draco stalked into the Room of Requirement, Crabbe and Goyle right behind him. He could hear movements; rustling and the occasional _pinging_ of something falling onto the floor. No one else seemed to be here, but Draco knew that Potter was somewhere inside. He haad watched that dark head duck in here, searching for something. This was what Draco needed. He _had _to bring Potter to the Dark Lord.

He spotted Potter diggin through a mountain of stuff, his hair wild. The boy had gotten thinner since Draco had last seen him. Good, easier to drag him along to the Dark Lord. Easier to overpower.

"Well, well, Potter." He snarled, pointing his mother's wand at the boy's head, conscious of Crabbe and Goyle repeating the motion. Potter was calm, stony-faced. Draco only smirked back. He wouldn't be scared into leaving, not this time. "What brings you here, Potter?"

"Hello, Malfoy. Crabbe, Goyle. I could ask you the same. " He nodded towards them. He was alone, Potter. No Weasel or Mudblood to help him. And yet, the boy acted like he was already prepared to just walk out of her unscathed.

"You have something of mine. I'd like it back."

"What's wrong with the one you have?" the Gryffindor jerked his hand towards the wand now clutched in Malfoy's hand. It sounded as if he were buying time, giving someone a few extra minutes to do something.

"My mothers, actually." He watched the Gryffindor's eyebrows rise mockingly. "But it doesn't work the same as mine. It's not…as powerful, not quite….the same, see. Doesn't…understand me. Know what I mean?" He thought, for a second, that he heard Potter murmur something, but Draco didn't stop to ask Potter to repeat himself. Hestepped forward to retrieve his wand.

"Why didn't you tell her?" asked Potter, throwing him off. "Bellatrix?"

Goyle exchanged glances with Crabbe, but Malfoy turned to glare at him, eyes saying _"Don't ask."_

"You knew it was me. You didn't say anything. Why?"

Crabbe stepped up, wand still aloft. "Come on, Draco." He whispered in his ear. "Don't be a prat. Do it." Goyle stepped up as well.

Potter started to reach into his pocket, but Malfoy murmured, "Easy."

"You an' yer dad are finished, Malfoy," muttered Crabbe.

Draco turned to look at Crabbe, who had never defied him before. "What did you say to me?" he yelled. "What did you-"

"_Avada Kedavra!" _Crabbe yelled at Potter, who ducked.

"STOP!" Draco cried. "The Dark Lord wants him alive-"

"So? I'm not killing him, am I? But if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants him dead anyway, what's the diff-? It's that Mudblood! _Avada Kedavra!" _Granger and Weasley had arrived, wearing shocked looks as the Mudblood cried "Expelliarmus!" snatching Draco's wand away from him.

"Don't kill him! DON'T KILL HIM!" shrieked Draco.

The three Slytherins ran off as Weasley chased after them, crying "That's my girlfriend!"

He heard clattering behind him and then Cornish pixies tugged at their clothes and hair, gripping Goyle's wand and took off with it. Crabbe turned to look at Weasley, who was still chasing after them. He cried something and a beast, made purely of fire poured out of his wand.

"STOP IT! CRABBE, STOP IT! YOU'RE GOING TO KILL US ALL!" Draco and Goyle yelled at Crabbe, who was casting the fire with an almost feverish look in his eyes. The wall of fire came at them and they began running.

Weasley started with wide eyed at the Fiendfyre, before turning tail and running. They heard him shrieking, "The bloody fool is setting the place on fire! Help!"

He saw Potter run by as he and Goyle began climbing up one of the mountains of things. Fiendfyre was nipping at their feet as things fell and clashed all about them, the mountain threatening to collapse and kill the two boys clinging to it.

"Aguamenti!" Yelled Goyle, but he had no effect on the Fiendfyre. Flaming serpents, chimaeras, dragons, and other creatures reached up at them, snapping playfully, threatening to burn them up. He saw Crabbe run by, casting more and more, calling to Potter ahead of them, "Like it hot, scum?"

The room was collapsing around them as a fierce wind swept by. Malfoy jerked around to see Potter, Weasley, and the Mudblood on brooms, flying by.

"HELP! HELP US!" Goyle and Draco cried, nearly tumbling off the mountain they were standing on as it crumbled. Potter swooped by, grabbing Malfoy by the hand, pulling him onto the back of the broom and they flew off. The five teens collapsed to the ground outside and Weasley and Granger slammed the door close.

"Crabbe!" Draco cried, before Goyle pulled him to his feet and they ran off.

...

Crabbe stood inside, unaware that his would-be victims had escaped.

"Hotter!" he called to the flames. "Hotter! Bigger!"

He turned to find the room empty of anyone else.

"Damn…." He whispered and took off in the direction he thought the door was in. It was closed, locked and he was surrounded by massive flames that had no desire other than to burn him.

"Help! Help! Draco! Someone, help me!" The room was getting hotter; it felt like his skin was melting off him. The room was an inferno, his body bursting from the inside.

"PLEASE!" he screamed, but no one answered. No one ever would.

...

Draco Malfoy leaned against a wall, watching his wife rush forward to collect their son, saw Potter, standing not ten feet from him. Something twisted in his gut, clenching. It made him feel sick.

"Hello, Malfoy." Potter nodded to him, reminding Draco of that day twenty years ago. The way his friend's death had started with simple words like these.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked suddenly, surprising both men. They didn't ever really talk much, especially not about May 2nd, 1998.

"Do what?" Potter replied coolly.

"Save Goyle and me. We were trying to kill you. At least, Crabbe was, but I guess I didn't really help matters much, from your point of view. But you saved us anyway."

Potter shrugged, looking confused. "Because…..it was the right thing to do, Draco? No one should have died that night, not even you."

"But I tried to kill you-"

"Yeah, and I tried to kill you as well, Malfoy. But that was years ago, and we're older now. We're on the same side, so I might as well forgive you, oughtn't I? I have, you know. I _have _forgiven you, even if you haven't forgiven yourself. You didn't deserve to die. No one did, not even Crabbe." He turned away then, waving to a little child version of watched his old enemy's retreating back, puzzled.

"I deserve it?" Draco repeated to himself, watching as Astoria bent down to hug their son. Did he really? He really did deserve to live, even if he _was _a horrible human being? He'd never find out. He would never truly figure out if he deserved to die that day. Crabbe had, but Potter had saved him.

Did he deserve it?

Did anyone? Did no one?


End file.
